Day after day every day.
Six sugars, three creams
Drinks his coffee the same way
He sits and doodles and schemes.
Then he stands at 9 on the dot.
He grabs his coffee and pad.
He’s out the door by 9:01
Curiosity struck me bad.
“What if he left at 9:02, not one?”
“I could block him,” I thought.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“He’s late a few minutes, five or ten.”
“It was worse than that.
He wasn’t late; didn’t slow at all.
But here I am. In the hospital.”